


Azula Week 2019

by ragdollrory



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: A song as a prompt, Another era AU, Greek Goddess AU, Post canon, Unexpectedly Saving Someone From The Gaang, crossover AU, flower shop au, tw; suicide attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-06-28 08:18:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19808368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ragdollrory/pseuds/ragdollrory
Summary: My entries for Azula week 2019.





	1. The Players

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What humans don't usually know, is that Gods grow bored, and curious sometimes, and more often than we seem to realize, they are walking amongst us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 1 - Greek Goddess AU

In Athena's opinion, human life had always been most interesting. The way they moved through their time on earth as if there were no tomorrow, as if everything began with the rise of the sun and ended with the glow of the moon, its white halo bathing the night sky, and all trapped between Helios and Selene was either to be perfect, or not to be at all. The spark with which they followed their dreams, their ideals, their leaders.

And maybe they truly did not have a tomorrow, at least not all of them did. Humans- their lives- were fickle at best; only in their flesh bodies for a limited amount of time, and even then, growing old much too quickly, going to war between one another far too easily. Their need for greatness often pushed into the wrong direction, pursuing their names in history books by means of brawn rather than brain; often thinking on their feet, tempers flaring at the first strike, hands quick to clutch at their swords.

Athena knew much of it was cause of Gods, some of it even to her. Many men had idolized her throughout worlds, throughout eons, and once men loved, they did it so passionately that they were hardly ever pulled from the source of their infatuation. It often happened to Gods, that they fell prey to men’s love; many of her siblings were evidence of that, many more than she cared to account for. And as such, it often happened to Gods that they fell prey to human ambition, too. Much was the case of one of her brothers, one she’d given chase to throughout many a world, hoping for a better end to the human lives Ares consumed in his quest for power.

And so she followed him into this world as well, her thirst for knowledge, experience; her intentions to protect the men of this world from Ares a convenient excuse.

The awakening was usually slow- conscience and memory coming to her in small bouts of color and feeling. Human events helped it through sometimes, triggering the millennia of experiences with something as soft as a hug from her new brother, and the discovery that in this world she could wield a lively element such as fire; the horror of abandonment tearing at her chest late one night.

It was never easy to come to terms with facts that went beyond her powers, that came with the life one took. The rules of this new board she was playing on.

Athena learned early in this human life that she was born to a coin she’d not forged, and that coin had two of the most devastating faces she’d experienced while on earthly planes so far. 

That she was both to be worshipped and terrorized by the man who gave her life. And that she’d been a monster in the eyes of the woman who birthed her as well, no matter how much Athena yearned for her affections. 

That winning in some fields did not mean she could win in all, no matter how hard she tried- how desperately she tried- to hold onto some things. Nothing was fair in love and war, and so it seemed, when you were good in one, you were bound to fail in the other.

That jealousy was as lethal as a dagger, and that she both felt it and incited it in others, and that she couldn’t stop it. It was addictive, it was an easy game, with dangerous outcomes, such as her once loving brother.

She learned perfection was something that was expected of her, in higher form than ever before, even in time spent as a Goddess. And she became addicted to it as well; searching, researching, and working so hard to please, to be perfect. Addicted to praise.

Athena learned she too had fallen prey of humanity, and in her greatest quest to stop Ares, she’d taken quite a few detours, not all of them benign. For her, or for others. But so was human nature, the same imperfections she’d always found fascinating.

It wasn’t long after she’d been stripped of all she’d once felt was close to her heart when a crusade was laid out in front of her, an opportunity to put her out in the world, and thus, closer to Ares.

But how many times could she get away with failing her father’s mission? Have her underlings and friends make mistakes, have her flames purposely miss her intended enemies without harm? How many times could she watch them escape until she was brought back into the Lord’s side and lost her chance at her real enemy?

And how much harm was she inflicting into her human life? What would the consequences be? Those were the questions that often kept her awake while her friends slept.

The city was grand by human standards, grandiose even, with a story of standing in proud victory over her nation’s attempts against it. Her own uncle had lost what he loved most to the city’s walls. Rings of towering stone separated people based on their monetary status, isolating brothers and sisters, fathers and children, flesh and blood, because of something as frivolous as metal. 

And she knew he was here. She could smell him; putrid, like the stench of a battlefield the morning after. Fear and blood and bile; everything that made him proud, and her stomach revolt.

Azula walked past the walls of Ba Sing Se as if she were not the Princess of the enemy nation. Under the guise of greens and golds, no one batted an eye at her and her friends as they were led to see the King. She had to keep herself from shaking her head, so very like her to slip right under Ares’ nose, and so very him to underestimate humans. To underestimate her.

The plan had not been hard to devise, not with her loyal companions, not with how much of a fool this particular son of Zeus was. And soon enough she’d been imprisoned, interrogated, her facade stripped, and Azula could only smirk her way through it all. 

And then he really discovered her. Came marching to her, thin lips twisted in an inhuman smirk, as he ordered his faithful Dai Li away. And her true smile showed, pulling at the corner of her mouth with the joy that came with a new, unexpected challenge. What a fun little twist in her plans.

“Athena.” His voice lost the inflection he’d been using so far, turned deeper, raspier, the voice of a God who boasted over his fearsome war cries that made humans tremble.  _ Idiot _ , humans trembled over the touch of a woman as well, there was no need to raise one’s voice.

“Ares, brother of mine.” Athena kept the smile etched on her features, she quite liked her appearance in this reality, she liked the energy of this youth. Her eyes swept over Ares, from his arms hidden behind his back- where she knew he kept his stone gloves- to the ridiculous braid growing from his otherwise bald head. “I see Aphrodite wasn’t so charitable to you this time around.” Athena sneered, a hand waving about in the air between them. Was it childish? Probably. She had the appearance of a child, so she’d still enjoy it.

“You think so highly of yourself, Athena.” He circled her, the room around them grand and empty, the columns, the flooring, the very particles of gold embedded in the walls his very element in this world. Still, she didn’t flinch, allowing Ares his inspection. 

Ares was a God of little thought, and quick to action, and her small frame gave her the advantage this time. Her body’s age would have him forget she was actually his equal, that she’d beaten him in this game many times before.

“This time I’ll win.” Finally he spoke again, his voice carried by the echo in the throne room placed him much too close to her, and her back tensed imperceptibly. “I’ve been here longer, Athena, I know how these men think, how this world works. I know how to play them. This city has been mine for decades now, and I won’t let you take it away from me.”

Her laughter filled the space, loud and musical. Athena turned to face her brother, unable to believe his ambition could have ended in the possession of just this one city. Either he was trying to hide a much bigger plan, or he was truly bored when he came here. Regardless, she was amused, and knew exactly how to take him down without breaking a sweat.

“Oh, but little brother… how you entertain me.” Feeling the boldness of her fire within, Athena placed a hand on the man’s shoulder, a much-too-sweet smile setting on her lips, his nostrils flaring, and jaw tightening, but still he stayed put. “And here I was, thinking we could strike a deal, but it seems your new life has come with a dwindling of your aspirations. What a shame, really.

“See, I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I’m a Princess this time around.” It was her turn to circle him now, ignoring the analysis of his being, and inspecting the intricately carved features of the columns around them instead, the detailing of the roof. She knew how he behaved, how he stood, how he attacked. It never changed no matter the reality. “A very powerful one at that.

“My father, Fire Lord Ozai, is slowly but inevitably taking over the world.” She turned to him with a condescending tip of her head. “But I’m sure you knew about that already.”

Throughout the years, and their many encounters, human plane or not, Athena had learned Ares was very much a God rash men wanted; quick to anger when one poked at his overinflated ego. And so that was what she intended to do.

Ares beady eyes narrowed on her. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, sister. You think I’m an idiot, but I’m ahead of you this time, and my plan is in the works already.” Athena merely rolled her eyes at him, what even was the point of this conversation? They’d been here before, they’d be here again. But, if he wished to believe he had some upper hand, then so be it. “I know who Ozai is, and I know about your scarred brother, too. He’s living here, did you know?”

That she didn’t know, and she found worry stir in her chest, a flicker of emotions developed for the boy who was flesh of her flesh this time around, but she pushed it aside for the moment being. She’d find Zuko later, and have him return home with her, where he belonged.

“I care not for the boy, Ares, you should know that already.” She lied through her teeth, something that came to her as easy as breathing and wielding blue flames. “But I’m intrigued at this master plan of yours, of course, although if you’d like to hear mine, then we might come to an agreement. 

“You see, I’ve learned so much this time, brother. The man- my father- has taught me a lot, and he’d be pleased if I can bring him someone like you, Ares. He’d reward me, and I- in turn- would reward you.” Athena’s voice softened, she cooed at the man, eyes widening to convey the illusion that her words carried. “You’d have a place close to him, and you could rise so much more quickly from there. We could rule this world together, just you and I. Just imagine what we could do, little brother.”

His stance relaxed ever so slightly, but enough for her to pick up, his left eyebrow twitched in interest, and Athena knew she’d at least caught his attention. That would do for now. She didn’t bother to add anything else before leaving him there, pondering over her words, as she returned to her friends. He would go to her before the day ended, ambition was what drove him after all.

And in the end, ambition was what brought him down. He always thought too big for his brain, and hurried to fights when he was all but blind to his opponent. She knew it, she’d seen it, and this time around was no different, not at all.

It was with Princess Azula on the King’s throne, and Long Feng betrayed by his own men, that this particular chapter in the battle of Ares and Athena ended. His face, as he realized he’d been played yet again by his sister had been delightful to watch; the knowledge that in this world he’d been defeated by a child, made for a bigger smirk on the Princess’ lips. And the fact that he’d thought- he’d genuinely thought, up until the very end- that he’d stood a chance, was a small victory on its own.

“You were never even a player, little brother.” Athena whispered by Ares’ ear as she ended his life in this mortal world, wondering where they’d meet again next, and going to find the boy with the scar on his face. Her new brother needed guidance, and she’d missed him.


	2. Smoothed by water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been ten years since the end of the war, and Azula finds herself in the last place she'd expected to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 - Post Canon Azula

It was not Azula’s usual place, to be standing on the room’s side, doing her best to blend in with the background, and avoid stares. At least it hadn’t been,  _ before _ . Now, with a lot of people still unsure of whether or not she should be free- with her own doubts about it- and particularly now, at the south, she was better off avoiding those who probably wanted her anywhere but in their land.

She was aware of the imposition she was to her brother, having come to this trip with him, because her fire could be blocked by lovely platinum cuffs at her wrists, but her title was very much intact. Azula was still the nation’s Princess, and as such, protocol asked she be here tonight, about to dine with the tribe’s Chief and his son, in the man’s own home. Agni had been merciful enough though, to spare her from having to share the evening with the waterbender as well. Now  _ that _ would’ve ended poorly, most likely than not.

“Most of them are from hunting trips.” Chief Hakoda's voice startled Azula from her inspection of a bookcase, and the many things crammed in there. It was mostly scrolls and books, but there were also a lot of small trinkets she couldn’t tell what they stood for, although they looked important, traditional. She figured that was what the man was referring to.

“Others are gifts from other nations and towns. This one-” He picked up a small gold piece she was familiar with, running a thumb over its smooth surface. “This one was from your brother.” Azula nodded, but didn’t dare open her mouth to respond, as the man stood next to her. He was tall, broad, and his eyes were intimidating, so hers moved back to the bookcase. 

“You can pick any of them up.” Hakoda offered, and his deep voice sounded gentle enough. Her hands pushed deeper into her coat’s pockets, lest she took it upon his offer and touched anything. She was unwanted guest after all.

Azula felt his presence still by her side. His eyes were on her, and shifted on her feet, unsure on what to do. This had not been her first choice, by any means. If it were by her wishes, then she’d be in her room with a book, and Zuko would be here alone. But he’d been having many long trips as of late, and the palace was growing emptier each time her brother left. Its walls tall and overwhelming, and the darkness lurking behind the heavy curtains unbearable. She’d barely managed to sleep at all, last time he left to one of the temples.

“This one's from the northern tribe.” The Chief’s voice cut through the silence once more, and this time she turned to look up at him. 

“Why are you talking to me?” Azula’s voice was low, cautious, but tinged with curiosity. “If this is about protocol, then it’s okay, I don’t mind about it. You can go with them-” Her eyes moved to the opposite end of the room where Zuko and the Councilman were entertained with some papers on a table. “ _ I’ll be fine. _ ”

For a moment, the man seemed to be considering her words, evaluating her seriousness maybe, the tension in her jaw, and the way she couldn’t stop blinking under his blue gaze. And then he smiled, and Azula frowned, not bothering in hiding her confusion anymore.

“I don’t want your pity either.” She hurried to clarify, nails digging on her palms within the coat, shoulders tense. Hakoda’s eyes dropped briefly with a breathy chuckle, and when he looked up, there was a softness in them she’d not anticipated. It was alien, and disarming, and she looked back to the bookcase.

“You know, Katara used to look at me like that a lot when she was little. Confused, sulking. Way before I left to fight-” And still the man kept on talking, it seemed he’d gotten sentimental now. Azula looked at him on the side, unsure of what to do with being compared with his daughter, surely the girl wouldn’t like it. But this was his home, so there was not much she could do about it. “She’d ask questions I couldn’t answer, things that weren’t for a kid to know, and she’d hate it when I changed the conversation on her.”

“You’re doing it now.” Azula stated, flatly. “And I’m not a child.” Even if she sounded a bit like one right now.

“No, you’re not, you’re right. Twenty-four makes you very much an adult in any nation, Princess.” She thought kindness sounded in his voice, making her lips tighten into a fine line. “But I’m sure my answer would still not be all that pleasant for you. Although I can say it’s not pity, and it’s definitely not protocol either.”

She nodded once more, having nothing much to add to his vague answer. Her eyes moved to a decorated arrowhead. “What about this one?” She asked, voice small, hesitant, and thought she saw him smile.

“That one is something Sokka brought home one day, found it in the snow. He added the symbols himself, said one day it would be a family relic.” 

“That is old water tribe language. I’m not sure I know them all though.” Azula analyzed the inscriptions for a moment, cocking her head to the side to catch a spiralled one she didn’t recognize.

Hakoda laughed softly. “Some. Others are just invented by him, I think he was maybe four when he designed them, let me see…” A finger went on pointing to the different figures. “This one is Tui, and here is La. 

“Then there’s the wolf, and the seal, this one I can’t remember what he said it was. Oh, here- this little one is water, and this is the sun. Agni to you.” He finished with a smile to her, and Azula found herself answering to it with a twitch at the corner of her lips.

“I imagine you know the old Fire Nation’s language, yes?” Hakoda asked, hands working through a mess of scrolls piled in no apparent order, at the bottomost shelf. He came back up with a very old looking one, a faded red thread kept it closed. “This- was brought to the tribe many years ago, and it has been in the power of every tribe Chief ever since. The issue is, no-one knows how to read it.” He handed it over, an encouraging nod for her to take it.

Azula was careful to pull the knot, and roll it out, eyes scanning the old writing, and a full smile finally breaking through her face. She laughed before she was able to stop it, and could see Zuko’s head perking up in attention from the corner of her eye. Looking back up, she found the Chief’s expectant face.

“This is a recipe.” She handed the parchment over, shaking her head in amusement. His heavy brows knitted together over the writing, surprise evident in his expression. “It seems some Chieftess asked for the current Fire Lady’s fruit tarts recipe. I’m sorry it’s not some ancient secret, but those are actually very good, I’m sure you’ve had them when you visited the palace.”

Hakoda seemed completely bewildered, as if he’d been lied to about the existence of snow, or the moon, and then warm laughter poured from his lips, and he wiped a few tears from the corner of his eyes. Azula found she didn’t mind talking to him that much after all.

“I can’t believe it,  _ all these years  _ and it wa s a fruit tart.” The scroll was left forgotten on a random shelf. She shrugged, a smile still playing on her lips at the absurdity of it all. At how nice it had felt to make him laugh.

“What about this one?” Azula pointed to a small stone carved to imitate a leaf.

“That one is from the Swamp people. They use the water to shape the stone, much like nature does.”

“It’s beautiful.” Azula traced the leaf’s nerve before she realised her hand moving, and was quick to remove it.

“It is. You can take it.” He said, as if it were nothing, as if she wasn’t who she was. And when she turned to him once again, his eyes were so damned blue and sad, sitting on her hesitant hand.

And she couldn’t ask, because now she understood why he told her that about his daughter’s questions. Because the way he was looking at her was much like the way Zuko did, and she could barely handle her brother’s answers as it was. 

And before she could retreat to the coat, he took the leaf and put it on her hand, and Azula just stood there, petrified, with her hand between the Chief’s.

“It smells like the food is almost done.” He gave her hand a little squeeze before releasing it with a reassuring smile. “You can keep the coat on, okay? It’s always a bit chilly for you firebenders here.”

“Thank you.” It was all she could manage, and even then, the last word left her lips broken. He only shook his head, as if nothing where the matter, as if  _ this _ were a common occurrence for him. And just like that he left to check on the food he’d been preparing.

After what felt like forever, Azula could tear her eyes from the stone leaf, and put it in her pocket to go sit down next to Zuko.

“Everything alright?” He turned to her offering a glass of something, his voice was low, but his concern terribly loud. She felt like crying for the second time in just a minute.

“Yeah, I just-” She glanced over to the fire.  _ I just met a father _ , were what her lips refused to form. That she’d seen a tiny glimpse of what she’d never had, and now wanted to go drown herself in alcohol, and self-pity, and the cold sea. “Yes.” She repeated, managing a smile to quiet down Zuko’s worried eyes. “The Chief gave me a present, that’s all.”

“That sounds nice of him.” Her brother commented with an all too knowing smile, leaning to brush lips on her forehead. Azula nodded, fingers playing with the rock through the fabric of the coat. Dinner sounded a little bit better now.


	3. Little do you know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven years since that last Agni Kai, things are a lot better between Zuko and Azula. A snippet of one of Zuko's visits to the asylum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 3 - A song as a prompt   
> (Little do you know - Alex & Sierra)

“Do you think I’m pretty, Zuko?” His hands halted on her hair for just a second, before he resumed his task of letting it loose from the braid. It seemed he took personal offense with the asylum’s style, but she liked him taking the time to play with it, so of course she was not complaining.

Silence stretched between them for a moment longer, and Azula imagined her brother was likely frowning to her back, his thinking manifesting in how he pulled at the little knots at the ends. Likely how he tried to untangle the way her mind worked. She focused on the movements of the guard at the far end of the gardens then, failing miserably to conceal his eyes on them, as they sat quietly in the little slope that had sort of become theirs throughout the years.

“I mean-  _ I know I am _ , beautiful even, but- do  _ you _ think I am?” She tried amending it, make it easier maybe, toying with the linen sleeve of her pants, and trying not to turn around and catch his eyes.

“Azula, where is this coming from?” Finally, words out of his mouth. Not what she wanted, but pretty much what she imagined, Zuko’s hands finished the work on her hair and sat on her shoulders, softly tugging for her to turn around.

When she did, and the loose curtain of hair hid her from view, his fingers found her chin, and his free hand tucked raven strands behind her ear, searching her eyes. A little shrug of her shoulders was all she managed, but he held her gaze, twin gold hardening just so; if she wanted an answer, she had to give one.

“I don’t, I mean, I wonder sometimes… do you remember mother? Do you think I look like her?” A flicker of pain crossed his eyes, and Azula regretted instantly having asked, but his hold on her chin tightened, and a moment later he was smiling. Soft, and bittersweet, much like the majority one of his visits here.

“I think I remember her, yes.” His hands dropped to his lap, and Azula shifted around, sitting to face him fully. She tucked her legs to her side, weight resting on a hand. “Let’s see…” Zuko’s eyes travelled over her face, and she did her best to stay still under the scrutiny, but eventually couldn’t help but to pull faces at him. He chuckled, and she did too in turn, and some of the air was cleared around them.

“I think you might have some things. I do too, of course.” Zuko’s voice was breathy when he continued, chest falling with the ends of their laughter. He took a finger to her nose, tapping on the tip, and trailing up to an eyebrow. “I think your eyes. They’re not like mine, they’re bigger, and turn a little more upwards here.” His finger touched at the corner, and then brushed over her lashes, making her blink rapidly. “Your lips might be a little like hers, mine certainly aren’t.

“But then- your chin is more like mine, and the cheekbones-” Azula watched him as he went on, pointing out how much she didn’t look like their mother, a bubble of warm gratitude growing in her chest.

“You know,” She cut his sweet inspection with a hand over his, lacing their fingers together, relishing in his temperature. “I was given a mirror.”

Five little words, and she felt his surprised intake of air. Smiled down to where his fingers had tightened briefly on hers, and finally looked up to catch the realization of where the question was coming from at last.

He waited though, until she continued on her own, sweet Zuko, always waiting for her to come around. Patient and trusting, and loving her when she couldn’t always love back, when the fears that she worked hard on leaving behind, returned every so often to haunt her.

“I’m so different now.” Azula wanted to believe those words so hard, that she had really changed, on the inside as much as the out. That the girl she remembered in the dead of night when she couldn’t sleep- scared, unfocused eyes staring back at her whenever she let her eyelids fall- would never return. That she’d salvaged of her what she could, what was worthy, and had been able to let go of the rest. “Don’t you think?”

“I think so, yes.” His voice was soothing, pushing most worries away so easily, she often wondered if she’d be able to go on without him. An arm around her shoulders, Zuko pressed her to him, lips leaving a kiss at the top of her head, and then another one on her forehead, before resting his own against it. “You’re very different, and yet you’re not. You’re still my annoying little sister Azula, and that is all you need to worry about. Be yourself. I’m proud of you.”

“Oh, I’m  _ hardly _ annoying.” She rolled her eyes, ignoring how they wanted to mist. Leave it to Zuko, to always make everything so emotional. “And- you didn’t answer my first question.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes now, a huff of hot air trapped between them, before he pulled away, keeping her at arm's length. Zuko straightened his face, and even without his headpiece, and regalia, she could see just how much he’d grown as well. How his eyes inspired respect and trust. 

“I think you are the prettiest little sister I’ve ever had.” His face broke into a grin.

“You know, being I the  _ only _ little sister you have, that also makes me the ugliest, so I think you should consider rephrasing, or I’m filing a complaint.” She swatted his arm.

“Filing a complaint! Oh, but where have the mighty fallen.” His laughter was so free then, and Azula couldn’t help but to shake her head at her own sentimentality, but when she could pull an honest smile from him, true laughs- then it was a good visit.

One where the past, the pain, had lost over the present they were building together. One where he didn’t look at her with pity, sadness or regret. Where she’d managed to pull through another month, and that put her closer to going home at last.

“Just you wait, Zuzu,” Azula threatened with a mischievous smile. “next time we’re training together, I’ll make you pay for this rude insult to the princess of your nation.”

“Oh no, I yield, I yield.” He bowed to her, eyes tightening with a smile, making her chest tremble with happiness. Zuko looked up from the grass, as Azula plucked some grazings to drop on his hair.

For a moment, as she looked at his silly happy face, she thought she might be able to tell him this time.  _ I love you too. _ It didn’t seem so hard, she pondered, a digit tracing the line where the burned skin met the healthy one on his cheek. But it just was. Her lips couldn’t form the words yet, fear making her smile falter. Fear of him growing tired of waiting, and just stop coming altogether.

“I’ll wait.” He answered, rising back up, as if he could read her mind. And maybe he had, he’d gotten very good at picking up on her tells over the past seven years. It occurred to Azula that now that she was allowed mirrors back, she could work on hiding her emotions again. And then it also occurred to her, that she didn’t want to do that with him anymore.

“What happens if you lose though?” His question pulled Azula from her mind, and she remembered the threat of the training session, and of course he’d not known what had been on her mind. That was ridiculous.

“We both know that’s not happening, Zuko.” She said matter-of-factly, leaving no room for arguments, or her own thoughts on how her bending had been less than acceptable, after the constant use of the cuffs. “Now turn around, I’m braiding your hair.”

“As you command, my lovely Princess.” He turned with an exaggerated bow, and Azula wondered how many more times she could roll her eyes before she strained a nerve.

“Fire Lord Dum Dum.” She teased right back, moving to seat on her heels, and removing the grass from his hair, parting it to work on the plait.

For the next minutes, all that could be heard around them were the little birds that liked to sit on the tree above them, and the soft summer wind blowing through its top. Azula’s fingers worked swiftly on Zuko’s hair, years of braiding Ty Lee’s messy and big mane, made it so much easier with her brother’s light and silky one.

“There, all done.” She announced when she finished tying the ribbon at the end.

“Thanks.” Zuko turned, fingers running over her work with a little smile. “How do I look? Acceptable to use in front of the ministers?”

“Hardly, those old hags would die from the shock.” A less than graceful snort left her. “Although, that might not be a bad plan to get rid of them. I think you should wear it. With a very colorful ribbon, and glitter.” 

“Azula-” His warning was less than threatening, not to mention his smile, and the fact that she knew he liked her innocent plans to get rid of the disgusting men he’d inherited in court. 

Azula grinned, and slapped his fingers away from the braid, before he pulled that one apart as well. “But I think you look beautiful.” Zuko shook his head, pulling her to rest on his lap, to play with her hair instead.

“I think you’re beautiful too, always.” He said after a moment, and she poked a finger to his stomach.

“Thank you.” Her voice was soft, and happy, and maybe she blushed a little too. “I already knew it, of course, but I’m glad you know your compliments, brother.”

“You’re impossible.” Grass fell on her hair and face, she blew it away.

“You love me.” Another poke.

“I do.” Warm fingers caressed her cheek.

-

_ I love you too. _


	4. Just imagine the mayhem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a medieval setting, Azula is the one Princess in a tower that does not care for being rescued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 4 - Put the story in another era AU

Trends were something Azula could certainly do without. Most of them at least, and particularly those that were for women.

Girdles and corsets were pointless if you asked her, as were the panniers court women seemed addicted to, desperate to widen their hips in their quest for stares. She’d never quite understood the point of that. Well, it wasn’t that she didn’t  _ understand _ it. More like, why would you wrap, tie, and stuff yourself up, for others to gawk at you, when it was all false? She'd much rather be admired by her own shape, than the work of seamstress and sometimes even smiths.

Then there was wigs. Oh, wigs had been an endless fight between her and her mother. They were dirty, they itched, and why on earth would one want white hair in the first place? Wasn’t that old people’s hair? They were heavy, and impossible to wear, and Queen Ursa’s often had an actual living bird on it. It went without saying they were not made for something that wasn’t sitting down and looking pretty. Never for things such as training, swords and archery, boys’ stuff of course, but so much better than tea parties. 

Maybe it had been her rejection of everything that was court related from such an early age. Maybe it had simply been her mother hated her, and her father was too busy having a war by the week- always a new feud with a neighbouring kingdom. A new day, a new opportunity to invade something, Azula often teased. Or maybe it had been just the trend, but as soon as she hit her teenage years, she’d been locked in a tower.

Now, for a lot of people that might seem harsh, true. Lock your kid in a tower, who will feed her, how will she learn about the world, what happens if no prince ever comes to her rescue? Well, truth was, this was a trend Azula quite enjoyed.

Her tower was not such thing as  _ just _ a tower, of course. Her father might’ve been bloodthirsty, but he loved her, and he made sure she was comfortable. At the very bottom of it, Azula had a lovely bath; a wide pool of crystal clear water, soaps and scents, and so big she could even do some laps if she felt like it. She often did. 

One floor up, there was a training room, that she used frequently, and then another floor held a vast library. She had a tea parlor on another floor, but that one remained mostly untouched, and finally her room at the very top of it all. 

It was grandiose, opulent, with unnecessary drapings and stuffy furniture that adorned more than what they were useful for. Tall mirrors with gold trimmings, and so much silk she often wondered if there was an army of silkworms working just for her, or if her parents were conquering other lands to steal this ridiculous amount of fabrics. What was she even supposed to do with it? Lay on silk and pillows all day, running her fingers over their softness, letting herself be transported by the sensuousness of it all? She’d done it. It lost the charm quickly enough.

Every couple of days, a servant came with food, clean clothes and bedding. She was locked in a tower, sure. There  _ were _ iron bars in her windows, true. But Azula was still a princess, and she was not going to play her parents’ ridiculous games of “who’s the most popular king in the realm” by starving or living in rags. Of course not.

And Agni if the trend wasn’t all over the place, people were insane about it, and every time a new snippet of information got to her, the roll of her eyes became more pronounced.

Out of all of her sisters, Azula’s friend Ty Lee had been locked in a tower. Her tendency to run away with the circus had made her candidate number one for it. But it had been her knack for escape what had gotten her out of her tower quickly enough. Rumour had it that she had let her hair grow so long, she’d tossed her braid out the window of the tower for a prince to climb up to her rescue. 

For crying out loud, if she kept rolling her eyes, one of these days Azula would see the back of her skull, she was sure of it.

If she had to guess- Ty Lee had tied up her very own useless heap of silk, secured it to the bars on her window, and slid through them with her amazing and quite disturbing contortionist’s abilities. Besides, she’d often thought Ty Lee didn’t care for Princes, rather the opposite perhaps.

Mai, lovely and quiet, perfect daughter Mai, had gotten herself in a tower as well. That one had really impressed Azula when she heard about it. The girl had always been perfect for court life, so demure and composed, and she had quite the striking features as well. Zuko clearly thought so. But apparently Lady Michi had had another baby; a boy that could inherit their house’s mantle, and Lord’s Ukano position in court, so of course Mai was a bother now.

Her story was most amusing, and so perfectly Mai, Azula had often found herself laughing about it at random moments of the day. A sleeping beauty. 

It wasn’t a lie, of course, Mai  _ was _ beautiful, and it had probably been her cultivated and unnatural ability to sit still and quiet what had led her to it. The drama of it though. Trapped in a perennial dream for a hundred years, that could only be awoken by a noble Prince’s kiss of true love. Azula was sure in Zuko’s visits to Mai they did plenty of awakening, perennial dream Agni’s pants. Surely Lady Michi hadn’t seen that one coming, but her brother did have a dragon that could take him up the highest tower, of the highest whatever they wanted to put her friend in.

And that was the perfect cue for her own story, the Princess guarded by the dragon. It was a massive load of crap, and Azula was the one feeding it to people.

It was pretty simple really, she hated court life. She’d seen how her father was slowly losing his mind to power, and how her mother was either going to run away with one of her lovers, or get herself beheaded for it sooner or later. Or both. And Azula particularly hated the limitations court life brought for a girl. So it had been but a relief to be sent away from it all, and it was only because she was good at keeping appearances that she’d not smiled all the way to the tower, the day she’d been locked in at age fourteen. 

And really, she had everything she could want in the tower, and without the tight dresses, and complicated hairstyles, or the ridiculously useless long-toed shoes that she’d heard were the latest fashion nowadays. 

No, she was happy in her tower. Zuko visited often, aided by Druk, and she’d been in luck that various knights had seen the annoying beast circling her tower, to help the rumour spread. After that, it was only a matter of her own abilities and men’s easy to crush ego. After the first couple of Princes had been rejected by her, tossed out the tower by means of her own fire when they didn’t get the message to leave her alone, the story of the dragon had come to be.

Did she mind that men thought of her as a fire-breathing monster? No. Did she mind that every year less and less Princes, knights and noblemen tried to rescue her? Not at all. This- this was perfect, because it meant peace.

That was until what she was sure was an earthquake shook the tower from the very foundations.

Azula jumped to her feet, almost killing herself when she slipped on some random scrap of silk forgotten on the floor, burning it at once out of annoyance. She hurried to toss on her regular training clothes, and for a split second she considered leaving the tower in case it truly fell on her, but soon enough the tremor stopped. And then the door to her room flew out of its hinges, rock, and dust filling the air around her.

“ _ What on fucking earth!? _ ” Decorum was very important for a princess, lesson number one ever since they learned to say momma and poppa. 

It was not its main purpose, but a wall of fire cleared the room quickly enough, her stance ready to put up a fight with whatever had caused the commotion. Azula blinked at the person on the other side of the whole in her wall. A girl. A short, barefooted girl, with a mess for hair, who she imagined was an earthbender, because otherwise nothing would ever make sense to her ever again.

“Now that doesn’t sound like a Princess.” The girl said with a chuckle, and now Azula was just gaping. What the-

“You do realize you just tore a wall down, right? My bedroom’s wall, of which I was very fond of by the way. How do you expect me to sound? Please, do enlighten me.” This was just ridiculous, Azula huffed, arms crossed over her chest.

“Oh, I don’t know- small and dainty. Like the air blowing through the petals of a single rose at the top of a hill, warmed by the sun and surrounded by the sweet smell of morning mist?” She shrugged, a massive grin slicing across her face.

“That has to be the grossest thing I’ve heard in my life, and I lived with my mother and the bird in her hair. Where would you even hear that?” This could still be a dream, Azula pondered. A very bizarre dream, aided by the salts in her bath, or the mushrooms her last dinner had.

“Dunno, my mother?” The girl moved, walking around her room, and there was something off with her, she could tell, but what? Azula watched her, from the way she stepped, and her rather boyish clothes, to how she was ignoring everything that any normal person would feel drawn to. Like the jewelry on her vanity, or the books piling up on the floor by her bed. 

No, she seemed not to care about anything in the room. Nothing but her. Azula saw the way the girl’s chin tilted to her side the whole time, as if she was  _ hearing her? _ Could she be blind? How was she walking and not crashing into anything? Azula was sure she’d not moved a muscle, but as the idea formed, the girl turned to smirk at her, making her heart skip a beat.

“So... your mother has a bird in her hair?” The girl asked, the smirk only widening as Azula’s heart pounded louder in her chest. It was the shock, she told herself, just the shock. And maybe a smidge of curiosity, perhaps. “My mother knew a woman who liked that, some Queen Ursula or something. Are you her daughter, the girl with the dragon?”

“Ursa.” Azula frowned, more confused by the second, but the mention of her mother sobered her some from her initial surprise. She straightened herself, hands alert. “And yes, I’m afraid I’m related to her that way, why do you ask?”

“Curiosity. They say it killed the badgermole, you know?” The girl took a couple of steps forward, straight into the bed, but stopping just before she collided with it, running fingers on the silk sheets. Azula wanted to find her eyes, verify her suspicions, but the height difference and her bangs made it impossible to see.

“Curiosity killed the  _ cat _ , actually, but I’m sure it could work on badgermoles as well, why not.” And she should probably keep her eyes rolling, it would save her time really. “ _ Why _ do you ask? And what is your name too, and why did you think tearing down my bedroom wall was a good idea, if you’d be so kind?”

“Now that sounds closer to a princess,  _ Princess. _ ” The girl flicked her wrist, and a piece of wall flew past Azula’s head to her hand, where she toyed with it as she spoke. “I asked because I needed to know if this was the right tower, which it is, although there’s no dragon around.”

She shrugged, making her way around the bed, and closer to Azula, and even though caution told her to maybe step away, she just needed to see under the girl’s bangs. “The name’s Toph. Beifong if that’s something you need to know as well, and I tore down the wall to get you out of here, of course,” Toph said, as if it were the most obvious answer. “Okay then, let’s go.” 

Toph grabbed Azula’s wrist, and her instincts finally kicked in. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” Putting all her weight on a leg, she swept the girl off her feet with a swipe of the other, and managed to bring her down, face to the floor. Azula pressed a hand to her back, but not a second later her ankles were encased in stone, and she faltered in her grip.

“Well that was a stupid move on your behalf, wasn’t it?” Toph turned around between Azula’s legs, so that she was straddling her, blowing hair out of her face. Azula didn’t care, she was too busy learning that indeed the girl was blind. Her eyes were bleached, and didn’t land on hers, with just a shadow of green in them. Jade, her brain supplied. “What’s your next great plan, zappy?”

“Zappy, you sure you want to go with that?” She jabbed a finger to Toph’s chest, giving her legs a slight tug, but the rock wouldn’t give. “Let me go or I’ll show you  _ zappy _ .”

“That was what I was trying to do, until you threw me to the ground,  _ remember? _ ” The hold on her ankles tightened just so.

“No, you were trying to get me out of the tower, and I have literally zero intentions of doing that, okay? So let go of my legs, and leave where you came from. I’ll tell you what, I don’t even care if you don’t fix the wall.” Her tone was a perfect mix of annoyance and condescension.

“You don’t want to leave?” Toph seemed actually surprised by it, and Azula figured it was weird enough, not wanting to leave a place where she was a prisoner. Except she wasn’t, not really, and she was quite content with the peace she’d managed to create for herself there. “Did I hit you in the head with a rock?”

“Stop that.” She swatted Toph’s hand away as she attempted to touch at Azula’s temple. “No, I don’t want to leave, okay? I’m perfectly happy here, and I’d appreciate it if you just let me be. I was about to take a nap when you decided this wreckage was needed.”

Toph blinked, genuine perplexity showing in her face, and after a second or two, the stone encasing Azula’s ankles was released. She sat back on the floor next to the girl, a warm huff pushed past her lips, while the earthbender just stayed there, her unseeing eyes fixed on the ceiling. A tapping sound filled the room, one of Toph’s fingers making a couple of pebbles jump on the floor.

“So you’re a willing prisoner.” Tap, tap, tap.

“Yes.” 

“Why?” Tap, tap, tap.

“I’d rather be here than at my home.” 

“What about the dragon?” Tap, tap, tap.

“It’s my brother’s. It’s hardly ever here, but if no Prince is able to rescue me, then I don’t have to marry, and I’ll be free forever.” 

“What if no Prince rescues you, and you are still free forever?” Tap, tap, tap.

A small whip of flames blasted the pebbles away, before she flung the girl off the tower altogether, while Azula considered her words.

“You’re offering, I’m guessing.” Azula was cautiously intrigued now, leaning back against the bed. “And how do I know you’re not interested in the crown or the money? That your parents didn’t send you here for that?”

The earthbender snorted, and then laughed; loud, messy, and bitter. It sat particularly off with Azula, and she almost regretted asking.

“Did you know my parents had a kid?” Actually, she didn’t, and Azula knew of her family. The Beifongs were important landowners under their regime, and her father had made sure both her and Zuko knew all about the people who’d sworn allegiance to their kingdom. “Exactly, Zappy. I ran away from home, and I think you should run away from here with me.”

Maybe it was the years she’d been in there alone, or how tired she was of rejecting idiot princes and lords. Or perhaps it was the fact that this girl right here was the most chaotic thing to ever come into her life, and Azula craved chaos. She’d had nothing but order in her life so far, and the possibilities presented to her by the broken wall of her bedroom were endless. But could she really do it?

“Come on, Zappy, you want it.” Toph pushed herself up on her elbows, a sly grin pulling at her lips. “I can tell you do.” Azula’s heart leaped curious with the prospect of something new. "Zappy." Toph gave her shin a kick. "Come on. A dragon and a badgermole on the loose, just imagine the mayhem."

"Fine." She finally agreed, standing up, voice sounding far more annoyed than she actually was. With a smirk of her own, Azula zapped the earthbender on the side, making her jump to her feet. "That nickname had better not stay, or I'm coming back here."

"Whatever you say,  _ Zappy _ ." The girl chuckled, and Azula couldn't help a smile.


	5. Hold my hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three times he held her hand and she didn't want to, and the one time they both did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 5 - Crossover AU

"It’s always lovely to have you over for tea, dear." Mrs. Narcissa's voice trickled from the drawing room to where Azula was sitting in the parlor. Her feet kicking the air, legs dangling from the massive couch, boredom was slowly getting the best of her.

Her brother and the Malfoy boy had left her, gone to the gardens to race in brooms, and she'd not been allowed to join them. Her mother said little girls didn't do such things, and she'd been given a doll instead. If only her father was here.

"So how old is young Azula now?" The mention of her name made her ears perk up, she turned on the couch, kneeling into the beam of light coming from the parted door.

Her mother's voice was low, and the noise of the tea cups made it impossible for her to hear much, except for loose words here and there. 

"Delightful." Mrs. Narcissa exclaimed not long after. "Just two years apart, a perfect match for my little Draco." Azula frowned, a match for what? She didn't want to be anywhere near the boy, he was rude, and his hair was of the weirdest yellow.

"I'm going to tell on you for spying." His voice startled her, but she jumped to her feet at once, glaring at him. "I bet our mothers wouldn't like that."

"What do you care?" She spat, looking behind him, wondering where Zuko was. Not that she needed him for anything.

"I care because one day you'll be my wife." His words stunned her, eyes widening in confusion. His lips stretched into a smirk. "And I can't have you misbehaving. Father says a woman must always listen to her husband."

"Well, well-" Azula stuttered, face morphed in anger, because she'd heard her father say similar things to her mother, but it didn't apply to her, right? It shouldn't. "Well, I don't care what your dumb dad says, I'm not marrying you!"

"Oh, but you are, our fathers already signed the contract. I heard mother talk about it this morning." He step closer to her, and grabbed her hand. Azula was sure this had to be wrong. Fury filled her.

"Let go of me you little shit!" She pushed with all her might, and he fell sprawled on his back. In a second, the door to the drawing room opened, and a hand was grabbing Azula by the wrist. Her mother both apologizing to Mrs. Narcissa, and berating her for the poor behaviour.

Azula didn't care, her eyes were set on the boy, his silver ones wide in fear and something else, and she could swear there had been a spark on his clothes when she touched him. It was her turn to smirk now.

\----------------------------

“I trust the portkey here was not too much trouble, Mr. Inazuma. Such a trip all the way from Japan, and with the kids, I can imagine it being tiresome.” Mrs. Narcissa’s smile was as polished as always. Azula watched her movements closely, straightening her own back some more, to imitate the woman. “Lucius is expecting you in his office. You go ahead, I’ll tend to the kids.” 

“You know it’s never a trouble to come see you, Narcissa, we're practically family already.” Her father’s own smile was wide, and toothy, and Azula wasn’t so sure she liked it, but Mrs. Narcissa didn’t seem to mind it. “You two, behave for Mrs. Malfoy. I have important things to tend to.” He turned to them, a threatening glare to Zuko, and a hand pressing on her shoulder.

Soon after her father disappeared up the staircase, they were led to the gardens. Zuko hurried away to find the brooms, but Azula lingered back, watching Mrs. Narcissa tend to the flowers. It was a quiet activity, the lady of the house didn’t seem to mind her company, and before she left to serve the men some tea, Azula was gifted a rose for her good behaviour. She beamed, walking through the manicured gardens with her flower.

“Oh, so you came this time as well.” As she turned around some lovely bushes shaped like birds, Azula came to face Draco, her lips curling into an sneer on their own, much like every time they met.

“You  _ know _ I  _ have _ to come every time, you dimwit.” She spat right back at him, and turned on her heels, not wanting to get into yet another useless fight with him. Maybe she’d find Mrs. Narcissa and ask her for a book or something.

“Now, where do you think you’re going?” Draco hurried to stand in front of her, cutting her way, hands in his pockets. 

“What do you want, Malfoy?” She sighed, tired of this dumb game already. 

“Nothing much, have a conversation with my wife to be, that’s all. We hardly ever get to see each other, don’t you think?” And thank Agni they didn’t, Azula thought, if she had to endure more of him a year, then the betrothal contract would never come to fruition.

“Well, I don’t want to talk to you, you also know that already. Now go bother Zuko, I think he was using your adored Nimbus, or something.” Azula rolled her eyes, not even bothering to push past him, but sidestepping him completely.

“You should really stay and talk to me, though.” He grabbed her hand, plucking the rose from her. In the blink of an eye, Azula’s fingers were fisted on the lapels of his suit, free hand raised open to her side.

“You give that back.” She hissed, and could feel the air around them charging with static. To her surprise, he smiled, and then she felt the tip of his wand on her chest. “So what’s your plan, Malfoy, killing off your bride to be? Because I don’t think you have the guts to do it.”

A flame lighted on her hand, a smirk of her own pulling at her lips, the blue reflection of her fire clear as the day in the widening silver of his eyes. So he’d not expected it, perfect.

“You wouldn’t dare, I’ll tell on you.” His voice wasn’t as brave sounding as the tightening of his jaw, and Azula chuckled, letting go of him at last.

“You try telling on me. My mother isn’t here to save you anymore.” Azula commented boredly, playing with the flame between her fingers. She looked down on him, pleased with the fear flickering briefly in his eyes. “But I’m sure both our fathers would love to hear how  _ I, _ a little girl, pushed you to the ground.  _ Again _ .”

"You really are a monster!" He called back as she left towards the manor, followed by a yell of shock when the flower in his hands burst into flames.

\----------------------------

**Azula, my mother informed me an apology was warranted, after my less than gracious behaviour on your last visit…**

_ Mr. Malfoy, I care not for the contract that our parents drew upon us, we are  _ **_not_ ** _ friends, and you'll refer to me appropriately if you wish for me to even consider your apology... _

**Ms. Inazuma, you think too highly of yourself. If it weren't for my mother, I wouldn't give two shits about apologizing to you…**

_ … that vocabulary, so improper of a boy of your status… _

**… one to talk, or do you forget calling me names when you were barely...**

_ Mr. Little Shit, no, of course I don't forget. You'll learn with time, my memory is quite prodigious, something that might not work in your favour… _

**… and you should consider yourself lucky I'm not going to my father with your letters, or else yours will have to put a lot more gold in your dowry.**

_ … Empty threats, as always, but since we're keeping secrets from our parents now… _

**… I'm sure there are worse things than an arranged marriage, after all.**

_ … well, at least your mother cares about you. I don't even know where mine is… _

\----------------------------

“I thought I smelled something burn.” Azula rolled her eyes. She didn’t need to look up to see his trademark smirk aimed at her, or the way he stood against the wall, or the piano, hands in his pockets. He was the same old Draco she’d known her whole life.

“And you came just in time, I was running out of things to burn.” She turned with a sweet smile at him. “How about we try with you next?”

They held their gazes for a moment, neither wanting to cave, it was not their style after all. In the end, static charging the room and making his blonde hair stand, made Draco break his stance, running fingers through it to pull it back to its slick neatness.

“Still an annoying brat, I see.” He drawled, his wand making an appearance. He twirled it lazily between his lithe fingers.

“Still unable to perform wandless magic, I see.” Azula countered, the same smile only growing bigger.

Two strides, and he was next to her, his wand clattering to the floor, hands reaching for hers, pinning Azula down on the settee. Her breath caught, she couldn’t remember the last time they’d been this close. She could see each one of his long lashes, and every shade of silver in his eyes.

“What are you going to do without your hands?” Oh- now that was funny, she chuckled. He frowned.

Azula licked her lips in anticipation, watching as his gaze fell onto them, just in time to see the flame that came out with her exhalation. He jerked away, she trapped an ankle between hers, and he fell to the floor.

“You should practice wandless magic,  _ Draco _ .” Azula stood, and marched away.

\----------------------------

**Azula, I don't even know why I bother answering to your questions, no, we are not being taught wandless magic.**

_ Draco, you answer to me, because you find me charming, of course. _

**… but sure, you tell yourself that. School here is the same hell hole as always. Having to live with saint Potter and his lackeys…**

_ … I can only imagine, I have one of those here; Aang and his band of merry misfits, I swear to Agni they… _

**… but at least you get to go home at the end of the day,** **_this_ ** **is real torture.**

_ … except going home has not been the same since Zuko left. Since my father kicked him out. He joined that kid, Aang. _

**… After all, I always imagined Zuko to have poor taste in friends.**

_ … but you say that as if  _ **_you_ ** _ were forgetting playing with him when you were kids. _

_ Draco, I heard what happened. My father says it’s an honor, that if Zuko were here he’d have to do the same. That your family should be proud. I- are you okay? _

**Ms. Inazuma, it is indeed an honor, your father is right, as usual. I am nothing but proud, to make my house great once again, by taking upon this mark and mission...**

~~_ Draco… _ ~~

~~_ Mr. Malfoy, _ ~~

_ Draco, _

_ … and I don't know who I can trust anymore, they were supposed to be my friends. _

_ … father, he left for London, and he didn't take me with. I asked, I wanted to be there with you. _

_ … The house is so big and empty, I swear I can hear my mother sometimes. Agni, I must sound like a lunatic, or like Potter. _

_ … I don't know if you're getting these letters anymore, or if you even care about me still. Maybe you just decided to leave me. Like the rest. _

\----------------------------

It was cold, and late, and she should go home already, but the bustling of people in the streets of London made Azula want to stay just a little bit longer. She closed the coat tighter to her chest, breathed hot hair to her hands, and just watched around her.

Christmas time had never been a particularly important moment for her family, often times spent in the company of others. A time for Ozai to make deals over liquor, and Ursa to exchange empty pleasantries with other trophy wives, while she was one. 

Zuko and her were left to play around with the rest of kids, but even that didn’t last much. The manors were massive, and soon enough Azula found herself wandering empty hallways alone, with only a little flame in her hand for company.

It wasn’t too different now. Of course Zuko’s home was smaller, the normal size for the two of them plus a couple of extra rooms just in case. Still, he worked, and had friends, and a girlfriend- or so Azula figured- and she found herself walking alone sometimes.

He was out tonight, and she figured it was as good time as any to buy him a present, being this their first Christmas together since her recovery. And the people, the mass of people around her- families, couples, friends- made her feel less alone in the world.

She’d been standing in front of a window shop for the longest time now, debating herself on whether or not she should buy her brother a beautiful looking knife for his collection of cold steel, when someone crashed into her. She lost her footing on the cold streetwalk, and fell onto the floor.

“You really could afford to watch where you’re going, don’t you think?!” She snapped, even when the man was already kneeling to help her up.

His hand went for her elbow, pulling her up to her feet, and Azula swore she saw a spark. Her eyes flashed up to his face, and there was the flush of recognition in the silver ones staring back at her.

“ _ Draco- _ ” Her voice shook, and the word died against his shoulder, as her arms found each other on his back. He seemed stunned for just one second, and then Azula felt his hands carefully settle on her waist. She blinked back the stinging in her eyes, and breathed through the pain in her chest, but her senses were invaded by his cologne, and she had to pull away before she made a scene on the street.

“Azula, what- what are you doing here? I thought… last I heard-” He seemed to struggle with the correct way to say she’d lost her mind, but she couldn’t really blame him, could she? 

“Zuko lives here. I moved in with him some months back.” Azula eyes searched his face for the boy she’d known, and learned the ways in which he’d changed from that. The new strength in his jaw, and the worry lines between his brows, the stubble that had never been there before.

She watched him do the same with her, his eyes moving over her face, and worried over what he might see there. Neither were the same person from a decade ago, after all. “What about you?” Her words were a bit rushed, tinged with the fear of him walking away too soon.

“I-” His gaze moved onto the shop window, gloved fingers running through his hair. “I’m not exactly sure. I guess I’m trying to live differently. Azula-” Draco’s eyes moved back to her, but he seemed unable to say whatever was trapped behind his teeth.

“Coffee. I don’t drink tea.” She smiled, hoping she was getting this right amongst everything she’d gotten wrong in the past. The corner of his lips tugged upwards, and he shook his head at her.

“Of course you don’t, you brat.” Draco chuckled. He looked up and down the street, probably deciding which way was best- which one was less worse- and nudged with his chin for her to follow.

It was cold, and crowded, and Azula stepped closer to him, and very slowly, almost as if he didn’t want her to notice, he pulled a hand out of his pocket. Her own brushed it, and she swore there was a spark, there always was one with him.

Ever so slowly, almost as if she didn’t want him to notice, she laced her fingers with his. And after the briefest falter in his step, he closed his around hers, and held her hand.


	6. Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All it takes is a shift in the air. tw; suicide attempt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 6 - Unexpectedly Saving Someone From The Gaang

"What are you doing?" Azula wasn't sure what had taken her there, following the trail the Avatar had left in the form of yellow robes, and what was too much alcohol even by her standards.

She'd seen him leave the gala- had been watching him throughout the night, something off about him making her alert. His eyes were dull, smile strained at the corners, and she wasn't sure if anyone else felt it, but Azula swore the air was colder. Dense, and constricting.

Perhaps she shouldn't have waited so much to follow, but she figured someone else would go after him before. One of his friends, one of his ridiculous amount of fans, anyone really, but her.

She found him standing on the rooftop outside one of the lounge rooms at last, nothing but his pants on, a bottle discarded by his feet. The air was particularly chill here, unnaturally so, for a summer night in her nation.

"Avatar." Azula called again, whatever fear was swarming her chest forgotten in the strength of her voice. He turned to face her, and the sadness in his face tore at her heart. She tried taking a deep breath, but the air was still around them. Swallowing heavily, she asked again. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm not sure." The waver in his voice reminded Azula of his younger self, when she'd also been following him, but with very different intentions.

Her eyes searched the mess around, and fell on the Air Nomads’ pendant forgotten on the floor between them. For a moment she considered leaving to find someone else, Zuko probably, the waterbender even, but fear of leaving the room rooted her to the spot.

"You shouldn't be here, Azula." He sounded hollow, looked so lost, the air shifted again. Panic crawled up her spine.

"Well, this is my palace, so I can really be anywhere I like in it." She tried for some lip in her answer, but it sounded more like an apology instead. "Why don't you come back inside, Avatar?"

Seconds trickled by, minutes, a whole lifetime perhaps, she couldn't tell under the eerie gray gaze of the young man.

"No. You really should go." Azula's legs threatened to give under the strength of his voice. The most powerful being on earth indeed. The room's temperature dropped again, and she gasped for air.

"Avatar, please." She had to push the words out, head getting dizzy by the lack of oxygen. Azula took a couple of measured steps forward, the closer she got to him, the colder it got. Visibly shivering, she picked the wood amulet from the floor.

Looking up at him from her spot, she tried again, willing her voice to come out from her heaving chest. Fog left her lips as soon as she opened them. Azula’s own fire finally manifested, her will to make this stop. Make him get back in, go to her, as much as she’d never expected that to be such a strong desire from her heart. " _ Aang _ ."

Her skin slowly warmed up, and from there, the air around her. She took a step closer, eyes never leaving his, gold pleading with cold gray.  _ Please. _ Azula’s fingers wrapped around Aang’s wrist, and the spell broke.

He stumbled through the window into her arms, and her knees held them enough not to crash to the floor. Arms closing around his shoulders, she lead him to the floor, leaning into the wall behind. Aang’s fingers tightened around her waist. 

He trembled, cold as ice against her warm skin. Azula breathed hot air between them, and flushed him closer to her chest, her own body reacting in ways of uncontrollable shaking.

Seconds trickled by, minutes, a whole lifetime perhaps, she didn’t care now that she had him within her grasp.

“That was Gyatso’s.” The Avatar’s voice was small, apologetical. Azula hummed, her thumb traced the symbol engraved in the stone still clutched in her hand against his back.

“Then it shouldn’t be on the floor, but around your neck.” She handpicked her words, and was only a few attempts from Aang to pull away, that Azula realized her arms were still tense from the fear.

With a shaky breath, she let go of him. Air was still stiff, could feel it licking at her skin with each rise and fall from the young man’s chest, but it was tempered. She handed over the pendant, and he pulled it over his head, a hand hugging it against his heart.

“It was Gyatso’s.” He repeated. “And now it’s mine.” The weight of over a hundred years on his shoulders.

“And one day it will be your child’s.” Azula promised, with as much assurance as she could muster. “Yes?”

“Yes.” His eyes caught hers, and they shone so vividly with gratitude, she felt small under them yet again. “Yes, it will be.”


	7. The Jasmine Snapdragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Iroh leaves town, Azula takes a break from her duties at the family company to take care of his flower shop for a couple of weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 7 - Flower shop AU
> 
> A gift for my wonderful RP partner, author of the lovely OC, Tonraq (amaarok on tumblr)

The sky was still a pastel mix of orange and pink when Azula’s name was called by the barista, and she picked her latte up at the counter. The shuffle in her phone switched to a calm tune, and she walked the two blocks that separated the coffee shop from her uncle’s shop, a hand searching through her bag for the heap of keys the man had given her the previous night.

A couple of minutes and several light switches later, soft music filling the room, she was comfortably sitting behind the counter. Paper cup in a hand, and a book on flowers and their meanings in the other. 

It was only a couple of weeks until Iroh returned from his trip, but Azula figured if she’d been tasked with taking care of the place, then she might as well do her research. Plus, Zuko had assured her time and time again he could do with some weeks of her being absent at the company, and promptly taken her workload from her hands. So it was not like she had a lot more to do, as she waited for clients to show up. Once she tackled this, she’d start a novel, or another econ book, whichever caught her fancy first.

The place was nice enough to be in, once you got past the array of colors and aromas. Neat and varied, with some really exotic numbers as well. Or bright, happy, and completely adorable, in the words of Ty Lee, who often visited to have tea with her uncle. That was a friendship Azula could understand, but would rather stay the hell away from, lest she got her aura read, and cleaned with the weird blends the chubby man and hyperactive friend were so fond of.

Once the coffee was done, nose still in the book, Azula went onto checking the water in the vases, removing the withered flowers, and finally flipping the sign on the door over to Open. It was just a couple of weeks, she could do it, she’d lived through worse after all. The vultures at the company’s legal department, university, the institution, her family… This would be a piece of cake.

And really, as days trickled by, running the shop turned out to be effortless. Between her good memory, and knack for reading people, Azula found bouquet making to be an easy enough activity. She’d spotted several types- or stereotypes even- of customers so far.

First on her list, and last in her esteem, were cheaters. Those she could smell the second they walked through the door. Anxious as they looked through the store's varied options, toying with their wedding band when they were married, and checking the mobile an excessive amount of times while at it. They were easy to spot, and easy to sell to, and since Azula couldn't really skin them, at least she made sure her uncle's shop made a profit out of their disgusting habit.

"You don't really want to pick those." Came her usual opening line, with a discreet roll of her eyes, as they automatically went for the red roses. "Those are nice, sure, but it's a bit obvious, don't you think?”

She made her way around the counter, to point out some other options, not trying too hard to hide the disenchantment in her voice. “I’d say some chrysanthemum could be nice. Red means love, of course. White is for loyalty, and devoted love.” She let a second tick by before continuing. “Then yellow is sorrow, neglected love… perhaps an array of them would be good.

“Unless it’s not for the wife, but the lover. In that case I’d go with the red roses after all.”

It was most amusing how they just itched to buy and get it all done with, no matter what she decided was best to sell them. Always paying in cash, and oftentimes buying for both the spouse and lover. Sometimes Azula wondered if whoever received them understood the message behind the pretty arrangements. If they stayed together afterwards as well. Sometimes the client would return, and she’d known they’d not read between the lines of the flowers. Sad, really.

Probably one of her favourite type of client was the opposite of the first one, the long-run partners. They usually went in with a clearer idea in their mind, having gifted flowers throughout their marriage, or having read certain species was best for the current anniversary they were on. And their smile as they talked about their loved one was contagious.

Those, Azula helped with genuine interest, taking her time to put together a bouquet that would bring out the same joy in the receiving end as it did to the buyer.

“Perhaps it’s not the most common flower to gift, but Honeysuckles carry meanings of devoted love, and lasting bonds.” She explained to a man in his mid-sixties, who was looking for a gift for his wife of over forty years.

They’d gone over several options already, before he asked for the trumpet-shaped flower, and Azula couldn’t help but to monologue a little about the things she’d read on the plant. She even went as far as to mention the properties attributed to it when using it in a tea blend. The whole flower shop vibe was clearly getting to her, although she’d rather believe it was the man’s willingness to listen to her.

“If you plant this,” Making a quick trip to the back, where her uncle had the greenhouse, Azula plucked a little sprout of the plant in vivid coral color, to hand to the man alongside the bouquet, “then hummingbirds and butterflies are bound to come to your garden.”

He’d returned twice since then, once with his wife, who had brought her homemade cookies, and showed her pictures of the little plant in its new pot. It had been a nice day.

Other clients in her list were teenagers, and those were most amusing to tend to. Never sure of what they were looking for, blushing every couple of seconds, or everytime Azula asked them a question about the person receiving the flowers.

They usually came with limited money also, wrinkled in their pockets where they nervously pushed their hands, or in their backpacks under a pile of trash they often had to take out over the counter to be able to find the bills.

“Okay, listen to me, take lilies.” Azula’s patience was running thin with this one, but she’ll try her best not to throttle the girl, because it reminded her a little of Mai. And well, because it would not look good on the store. “They stand for refined beauty, and orange ones are passion. She won’t just like it, she’ll love it.

“Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.” Whatever it was that made the girl believe her, she was thankful for it, and she left with a stuttered thank you, and a nice arrangement of four lilies, while Azula was left methodically straightening the rumpled bills against the counter’s edge.

No, tending to the store was easy, fun even. And somehow- and Azula wasn’t pointing at people, but it had been Ty Lee- her uncle found out just how well she’d been doing her job, and decided to extend his trip a couple more weeks. It wasn’t the most awful thing to happen, but she’d been itching to go back to the company already. Still, Iroh hardly ever left the city, and two more weeks could harm no-one.

Azula had just sold a large basket of pink tulips for a baby welcoming gift, and was at the back fixing the vase, when the door chimes announced a new buyer. She called she’d be there in a minute through the parted door, getting a ‘take your time’ in return.

“Oh, you really don’t want to pick those.” Came her already trademark phrase, as she walked back into the shop, and caught the look of the newest customer.

Tall, big- so freaking big, probably a gym fanatic by the looks of it. He was tanned, with messy waves of ombré hair to his shoulders, and black ink tattoos spiralling down his arms from under his t-shirt sleeves. So, a surfer maybe? He had the aura of it, and Azula was positive the tattoos were Hawaiian.

“I’m sorry?” He turned to her from his inspection of some peonies, curiosity very vivid in his expression, a raised eyebrow towards her. Half his face was hidden by a heavy beard, but Azula had to blink a couple of times under the deep blue of his eyes. A smile tugged at his lips, and she shook her head to clear it.

“Peonies, you probably won’t want to pick those.” She took the tulips back to their fridge, taking a moment too long under the cool air, before turning back to the man. “They are linked to romance, and marriage, often times used to propose.”

“Okay.” He agreed without fuss, and Azula thought she was closer to her goal of guessing correctly. “Should I worry that you’re a mind reader, or-” His smile widened with a breathy chuckle, and she found herself smiling back at him.

“Not at all. I wouldn’t be in a flower shop if I were.” Rolling her eyes playfully, Azula moved onto what she figured were the flowers he was looking for. “So maybe roses, those are always popular, or irises-”

“Where would you be?” He cut through her speech.

“What?” She really wasn’t used to getting questions that were not flower related, not by first time buyers at least.

“I think this is a nice place to be, a happy one. But if you weren't here, where would you be?” The man commented, hands pushed into the back pockets of his worn-out jeans. She tried to ignore how he towered over her, giving a perfect view of the shirt hugging his chest as he did so.

"I, um. I'm a lawyer actually. I work at my family's company." Azula wasn't sure why she was hesitating over that, almost as if she regretted her position there. Or the fact that her name was on the very building she worked at. "I'm just covering for my uncle here. The shop is his."

"Hmm" The man gave her an appraising look, as if he were trying to picture her in a suit, maybe. Or maybe she was thinking too much into it. "Well, you seem to know quite a bit of flowers for being covering for him, then."

"Yes, well- I read a lot." Her answer was probably a bit off, but this whole conversation was. He was here to buy flowers for someone, some Barbie girl he met at the beach probably, and she had a book to go back to. Azula moved back to the flowers. "So, lilacs are good too, a magenta one is passion, so you could combine it with a-"

"Passion? No, no." He interrupted again, and this time she huffed, and turned to him with a hand on her hip. "I think you got the mind reading wrong here, who do you think I'm buying for?"

"I don't know." It was her turn to give him a once over now, and what a mistake it was. His smile was full of mischief, and her stomach had the gall to flip dangerously. "A Tinder date?"

His laugh filled the shop, loud and lively, and his eyes tightened with it, happy lines forming at the sides. Azula frowned, arms crossing at her chest.

“No, God no. Tinder dates, yeah- those aren’t my thing, really.” His voice was breathy when he spoke, shaking his head with a smile. He ran fingers through his hair. When his eyes found hers, there was softness in them. “I need something for my daughter. She has a ballet recital today.”

“Oh.” Oh, indeed. Azula’s arms dropped to her sides, shoulders losing the tension she’d gathered in about ten seconds. A daughter. “Okay, that’s- that’s nice. And easier, I guess.”

She was ashamed to say she was ashamed, and was too proud to apologise for the mistake. And there was also the fact that he seemed completely unfazed by the whole thing, and followed her around the shop in silence for the next couple of minutes as Azula pointed out options for him to pick. She could feel his eyes on her, making warmth climb up her neck, and making her breath catch whenever she turned and caught them on hers.

“I think daisies and sunflowers will do.” He said after some time, and she nodded, picking up one of the vases to take to the counter. He took the other one.

The music around them was the only thing filling the silence as Azula trimmed the stems and prepared the arrangement on a bright colorful paper. Her eyes trailed to the tattoos on his arm every so often, where he leaned on the counter.

“So what about me made you believe I was on a date?” The question definitely made her blush now, and she just focused harder on the flowers, thinking on an appropriate answer. There was none.

“Your looks.” She shrugged, not really wanting to say more, but the rise of his eyebrows encouraged for more. There was a line through his left one, Azula noted, a scar. It made him look better somehow. “I don’t know, okay. I just-”

Her hands motioned over to him, as if that made any sense, as if she made sense anymore.

“You just look like a man who would pick someone up easily, and- have many dates probably. Just, forget about it, okay?” She did not plead, she never pleaded. Azula tied the ribbon on the bouquet, and handed it over. “Here, these are on the house.”

He stood there for a moment, considering her words perhaps, about to laugh at her again maybe. And then his hand brushed over hers as he took the flowers. A shiver ran up her arm. God, please make him go now, before she made more of a fool of herself. 

“I insist.” Her voice was just a tad strained, and he stopped in his pulling out of the wallet.

“Okay, then.” Azula dared to look up, and he was sporting a really soft smile that made her chest ache. Damn it, why wasn’t he going away already? “Tikaani will be very happy with them, thank you.”

A sigh she didn’t know she was holding left her lips as he finally reached the door, but he turned once again, and she had to hurry to school her face to something that didn’t say ‘I was checking you out’.

“I didn’t catch your name, if you don’t mind me asking.” There weren’t many times in her life where she’d felt like this, spellbound by a total stranger, but this right here- as he stood by the door with a corner of his lips pulling up on a charming smile- this was one.

“Azula.” And then it was a full grin, and who had given him the right to just look so happy?

“A beautiful name. I’m Tonraq.” Azula thought she managed a nod before he left, but wasn’t even sure about that, and then she dropped herself very unceremoniously on the chair.

She had only managed to take a couple of steadying breaths, when the door chimed again, and she tried to clear her head to take on this new customer.

“Hi, can I- Oh.” Tonraq was there again, plucking two flowers from the vases, amaryllis, and daffodil. She tried very hard not to bring forward the meanings. It didn’t work; joy, new beginnings, and worth beyond beauty. She didn’t dare breathe.

“So I was wondering, since you wouldn’t let me pay for the arrangement, that I could pay for dinner? Friday night? It’s not Tinder, but I did bring flowers.” He smirked, and she had the sudden urge to push a finger to his chest and tell him a few truths, and- and kiss him as well. How unfair that he could do that.

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?” Azula couldn’t help the smile from reaching her lips, no matter how hard she tried. She plucked the flowers from his hand. “Fine. Only- because you picked them wisely.”

Grabbing a pen and a store card, she wrote down her number, and handed it over. His fingers lingered on hers a little longer this time, her heart hurried behind her ribs.

“I’ll pick you up at six, Princess.” He winked, and turned on his heels.

“I’m not- don’t-” She tried calling back on him, but it was too late, he was hopping into a Jeep already. And she was smiling at the nickname anyways. Azula smelled the flowers as if she wasn’t surrounded by them, her cheeks burning with the promise of the date. 

If he thought she were a Princess, he should’ve picked a purple iris.


End file.
